Part 4 (2/2)

When springtime came Pan joined the roundup in earnest, for part of the cattle and outfit now belonged to his father. Out on the range the forty riders waited for the wagons. There were five cowboys from Big Sandy in Pan's bunch and several more arrived from the Crow Roost country. Old Dutch John, a famous range character, was driving the chuck wagon. At one time he had been a crony of Pan's father, and that attracted Pan to the profane old grizzled cook. He could not talk without swearing and, if he replied to a question that needed only yes or no, he would supplement it with a string of oaths.

Next day the outfit rode the west side of Dobe Creek, rounding up perhaps a thousand cattle. Pete Blaine and Hookey roped calves while Pan helped hold up.

On the following day the riders circled Blue Lakes, where cattle swarmed. Old John had yelled to the boys: ”Hey, punchers, heave at them today. You gotta throw an awful mess of 'em heah.”

These two lakes were always dry, except during the spring; and now they were full, with green gra.s.s blanketing the range as far as eye could see. By Monday long lines of cattle moved with flying dust down to the spot chosen for the roundup. As the herds closed in, the green range itself seemed to be moving. When thrown together all these cattle formed a sea of red and white, from which roared an incessant bawling.

It looked impossible to separate cows and calves from the others. But dozens of fearless cowboys, riding in here and in there, soon began to cut out the cows and calves.

It was a spectacle that inspired Pan as never before. The wagons were lined up near the lake, their big white canvas tops s.h.i.+ning in the afternoon sun, and higher on a bench stood the ”hoodelum” or bed wagon, so stocked with bedrolls that it resembled a haystack. Beyond the margin of the lake, four hundred fine saddle horses grazed and kicked and bit at one another. Beyond the saddle horses grazed the day herd of cattle. And over on the other side dinned the melee over the main herd, the incessant riding, yelling of the cowboys and the bawling of the cows.

When all the cows and calves were cut out, a rider of each outfit owning cattle on that range would go through to claim those belonging to his brand. Next the herd of bulls and steers, old cows and yearlings, would be driven back out upon the range.

Fires were started, and as there was no wood on that range, buffalo chips were used instead. It took many cowboys to collect sufficient for their needs.

At sunset, when the branding of calves was finished, each cowboy caught a horse for night duty. Pan got one he called Old Paint.

”Say, kid,” called one of the Crow Nest cowboys, ”ain't you tyin' up a pretty fancy hoss fer night work?”

”Oh, I guess not,” laughed Pan.

”Come heah, Blowy,” called the cowboy to another. ”See what I found.”

A long lanky red-faced rider detached himself from the others, and strode with jingling spurs over to look at Pan's horse.

”Wal, I'll go to h.e.l.l, Ben Bolt, if it ain't ol' Calico!” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, in amaze and pleasure. ”Kid, whar'd you ever git him?”

”Dad made a trade,” replied Pan.

”Kid, look a heah. Don't ever tie that hoss to a stake pin. He's the best cow hoss I ever slung a leg over. The puncher who broke him an'

reached him all he knows was my pard, long ago. An' he's daid. Kid, he'd roll over in his grave if he knowed ol' Cal was tied to a picket pin.”

”Aw, is that so?” replied Pan. ”Fact is, I don't know much about him.

We called him Old Paint. Haven't forked him yet. Dad got him from a lady last winter. She was trying to work him to a cart. But he balked. She said she poured some hot water on....”

”Lady, h.e.l.l!” shouted the cowboy, growing redder of face. ”She wasn't no lady if she treated that grand hoss that way.... See heah, kid, I'll stake you to a good night hoss. Turn Ol' Cal loose, an' whenever you need to do some real fancy separatin' jest set your frusky on ol'

Cal. Better tie to your stirrups if you're perticler aboot keepin'

your seat, 'cause 'at ol' pony can sure git from under a cowhand.”

”All right, I'll turn Old Calico loose,” replied Pan. ”And I'll remember what you said about him.”

Blowy pointed out one of his horses. ”Kid, screw your wood to thet Jasper, an' you'll never be walkin'.”

”Thanks, but I got lots of horses,” said Pan.

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